The God and the Traveler
by Nausicaahime04
Summary: What if the infamous Svadilfari was a human being? What if he lived on Midgard two thousand years ago? What if he met a certain green-eyed god in a much unexpected way? Rating M for later chapters. Edited version.
1. Chapter 1

_Eddit: I had to delete and publish again this story because I noticed that page setting and sme words had been removed, making it difficult sometimes to read the text and understand it properly. My apologies for that (Mea culpa)._

Some time ago, I saw a drawing by the talented Phobs showing a human Svadilfari, you know, the « horse », father of Sleipnir. Well, this idea of a human!Svadi stayed in my mind and, slowly, a story started to form. Here it is. Hope you will enjoy it.

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The night had already fallen when Svadilfari reached the roman camp. He had been gone for three whole days in order to deliver a very important message to the governor of the bordering province of Gallia Belgica. This special mission had been given to him by the prefect of the camp, Maximus Quinctilius Eggius*.

The man was a general. He had bravely fought in Africa and Gallia, alongside Caesar. After years of good services, he had retired in Greece. But, after the disasters of the Legio V Alaudale **and Teutoburg***, the Emperor himself had called for him to help to secure the left shore of the Rhine. With his experience, Eggius was judged to be the perfect man for the task.

Of course, the general had first been reluctant to leave the sunny coasts of the Mediterranean for the cold forests of Germania. Yet, he could not say "no" to Augustus. So he resigned himself. And in order to feel more at home, he brought some of his beloved Greece with him: many amphora of olive oil and wine, several ancient marble statues and some slaves.

All noticed that most of the said slaves were pretty young men. "Pretty like girls", the soldiers joked. Eggius had been married during long years to a woman called Poppaea. He had loved her dearly but, unfortunately, she had died some years ago. And, instead of choosing another wife, he decided to turn to ephebes for affection.

Svadilfari entered the camp and went straight to the general's tent. He was glad to have finally reached his destination as big, black clouds were gathering above his head. Usually, he was good at forecasting weather but this storm was unexpected.

The general had been clear: he had to be discreet for his mission. Thus Svadilfari had to run through the thick forests all the way to Durocortorum****, the richest city of Gallia Belgica. A Roman messenger could have been easily lost but not him, because as far as he remembered, he had always wandered in these forests.

Of course, he had traveled, a lot, in Germania, Gallia, even in Hispania and Lusitania. He was free of his movements as he was alone: no family, no tribe. There was only him, and his precious freedom. Yet, he always came back to Germania, for some reasons.

The general had relied on him because he knew the area by heart. But not only.

They had encountered just after the arrival of the soldier in Germania. One day, he had sent one of his precious slaves to gather some plants in the forest. He was protected by an escort of soldiers. Yet, they had been no match for the group of barbarians who had attacked them. They had killed the soldiers but decided that the slave was too pretty to be killed. They had therefore decided to take him with them as an "entertainment". But unfortunately for them, Svadilfari was passing by. He had killed two of them, seriously injured a third and the two others had fled.

The traveler had then brought the slave back to his master. Impressed by the story his slave had told him, the prefect had offered his savior to work with him. Svadilfari had first hesitated but he had realized the amount of money he could gather while working for the Roman could be used to travel further than he already had. So he had accepted.

He was not the only German who had been hired by Eggius. Several Ubii served the Romans, for an important sum of course. Actually, it was part of the prefect's plan: using locals. They knew the area, the customs, the different tribes and peoples. Actually, he had already used this strategy in Gallia and it had worked brilliantly. It was so easy to use old tribe rivalries to their benefits.

Svadilfari entered the tent. Eggius was eating, surrounded by his slaves. They were wearing light tunics. A strange outfit for the cold weather of Germania. But the temperature inside was quite high, thanks to the big fire that was crackling in the middle of the tent. The general looked at the newcomer and smiled.

"Svadilfari! Come, my friend. Have a seat. Are you hungry? Here, have some meat. Andonis, some wine!"

The slave gave him a horn full of red wine. Svadilfari knew it was a privilege to drink the prefect's personal wine and eat at his table. Nobody in this camp, beside him, had this privilege.

"The message had been duly delivered, Sir." He informed the general, taking a piece of roast doe.

"Good, perfect. I knew you would succeed." Eggius was pleased. The area was not safe, especially for a Roman with an important message. Despite the presence of the army and the fierce will of the Emperor to integrate this region to his Empire, the German tribes would not stop the fight.

"Did the governor say something?"

Svadilfari swallowed the piece of meat in his mouth. "He said: good luck."

Eggius laughed and took a gulp of wine. "I've got a present for you." He said mysteriously.

"A present?"

"For saving Andonis." The prefect explained, pointing at the slave standing next to him with a jug of wine in his hands.

"It was nothing." Svadilfari shrugged.

"Oh no, it was not nothing." Eggius retorted. "For me, it is not "nothing". Your present is waiting for you in your tent." He said with a smile.

The messenger swallowed his last piece of doe, intrigued by this mysterious present. He left the general and went to his tent, wondering what it could be.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Truth to be told, he had imagined everything (a sword, an exotic animal, gold). Everything, but that. The said present was lying on his bed. And it was a young man. Svadilfari had first hesitated on the gender, but a closer look had allowed him to come to a conclusion: it was a man. But the delicacy of his body gave him something feminine.

He was lying on his left side, apparently sleeping. He was wearing a loincloth made of fur that was hiding his modesty. Yet, it was hiding nothing of his long, perfectly shaped legs. His right ankle was bond to a long stake by a leather strap. The stake was firmly driven into the ground.

The messenger's eyes slowly went up to the captive's waist, then to his torso. His arms were closed to his chest in a protective gesture. However, they let appeared a perfectly flat stomach.

Svadilfari was not naïve. He understood very well the meaning of this "present" and he could not help but smiled at the irony of the situation: he had prevent a young man from being abused and now he was supposed to have his way with another young man. Eggius had a peculiar sense of humor.

The man did not like it. Yet he could not stop himself from admiring the body offered to him. The ephebe was pale. So pale. His skin was like the white stone that composed the prefect's statues. One could even think that, by some magic trick, the general had given life to one of them.

Either way, the boy was beautiful. Gorgeous, even. Prettier than most of the women Svadilfari had encountered in his life. Prettier than Eggius's slaves. He was not usually attracted to men as his culture did not accepted homosexuality like the Roman, or the Greek culture did. Yet, the creature lying on his bed was undoubtedly attractive.

Slowly, Svadilfari came closer, getting a better look on the young man's face. It was as delicate and beautiful as the rest of him: fine features, high cheekbones, thin, pink lips. It was framed by ink black hair that accentuated his pale carnation.

It was during his contemplation than Svadilfari noticed a trickle of fresh blood on the captive's forehead. His captors had surely knocked him. The messenger just hoped it was not too serious. The young man looked so fragile. He rummaged in his things and took a clean sheet. He cut a small piece and took a bottle of some local alcohol. He knew for a fact that alcohol was useful to disinfect a cut. It was painful but effective.

He came closer to his "present" and, with infinite care, put the sheet on the pale forehead. While cleaning the cut, Svadilfari wondered where this boy came from. His hands were smooth and flawless. They did not belong to a peasant or a warrior. He looked more like a Roman aristocrat. But there was no way the Romans would turn one of them into a slave. The son of a tribe chief? Unlikely. German chiefs would not allow or be allowed to have such a delicately shaped son. It would be a shame to them.

Svadilfari was so lost in his thoughts and task that he hardly felt the cold metal of a sharp blade on his throat.

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Here it is. Please let me know what you thought of this: review!

* This name is a mix of Publius Quinctilius Varus, Roman general and Governor of Germania, who lost the battle of Teutoburg, and Lucius Eggius, orefect of the roman camp that was attacked during the same battle. They both died during the battle.

** Roman legion which lost his emblem, the Imperial eagle.

*** Destruction of three roman legions by a cohalition of German tribes lead by Arminius.

**** Ancient name of the city of Reims, France.


	2. Chapter 2

This time, it is a new chapter. Sorry again for all the mistakes in the first version. I'll be more cautious for the next chapters.

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To say that Thor was angry was an euphemism at best. He was far beyond anger and the violent storm that was currently raging was a good illustration of his state of mind. Nobody was able to calm him. But how could he stay calm while his precious little brother was in the hands of some puny humans?

Thor and Loki were no more children but they were hardly adults, by Aesir standards at least. Still, it was not their first adventure outside the golden halls of the royal palace. Since they were children, Thor had dragged his younger brother in so-called missions. However, as it was their first time on Midgard, their father Odin had demanded that they were accompanied by soldiers. The prince had not been happy but he could not defy his father.

The thunderer might be a little hotheaded and enjoyed fights a little too much for his own sake, but he was still very conscious of his duties as a prince, as an heir and as a brother. He was the eldest, thus he was responsible for his younger sibling. He was supposed to look after him and protect him. And even if they were now adults, Thor had promised himself, and his parents, to keep an eye on the second prince.

Many times, when things had not gone the good way, the golden prince had blamed himself for putting his brother in a perilous situation. Yet, the few times he had gone alone, he had felt the absence of his sibling. The two brothers had been together all their life: they had grown up together, they had played together, they had fought together. Frigga liked to say that they were inseparable like twins. Twins who were as different as day and night, though. Yet it was true that Thor was only a few months older than his brother. Thus none of them knew life without the other.

The kidnapping of Loki was all the more painful for Thor. He felt as he had failed his parents and, most importantly, failed his brother. Even more, he felt as if an essential part of him had been snatched.

He was overwhelmed by angst, and it was painful to imagine what the mortals were doing to his brother. Without information on where his brother could be, he felt powerless. He, the Mighty Thor, god of thunder, powerless. What a cruel irony! And his despair was increasing his fury. He could not stand this situation. It was worse than anything he had ever lived. But, for now on, his attention, and his fury, were directed to the chief of the escort that was supposed to protect his brother.

"Tell me again, Captain. How did a bunch of mortals outmatched some of the finest warriors of Asgard?" The prince asked, turning around the unfortunate soldier like a vulture.

"They were far more numerous than us, Your Highness. We fought back but we were too busy to prevent Prince Loki from being taken." The soldier tried to explain, not daring to look at his future king. The shame he felt was overwhelming. As a soldier, he would have rather died while protecting his prince.

"You were too busy." Thor repeated bitterly. "You were too busy to notice that your prince was in danger. You were too busy to stop some filthy humans from stealing a son of Odin." He was screaming at the captain's face while, outside, a loud clap of thunder could be heard.

"My Prince, there is no word to express my shame and…"

"Enough! You fool, how could you let this happen?"

The soldier did not know what to do, or to say. Trying to explain what had occurred was useless. And apologizing would only unnerve the god of thunder a little more. So he remained silent and faced, alone, the wrath of his prince.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Outside the prince's tent, two soldiers mounted guard. They were listening to the tough exchange between the thunderer and the captain. Well, speaking of "exchange" was somewhat exaggerated as only the booming voice of the royal could be heard.

"Poor Siegfried." One of them said, quite hypocritically.

"What do you think Prince Thor is doing to him?" The other asked, feeling pity for his comrade.

"Well, our prince's beloved brother had been kidnapped because of him, so it must be pretty nasty." The guard answered with a smirk, not in the least worried about the soldier.

"I wonder what they did with Prince Loki. I mean, they don't know who he is, do they?"

"Of course they don't know who he is." The first guard scoffed. "Most of all, they don't know who _his brother_ is. If they had known, they would never have touched him, believe me."

"So why did they take him?" the other guard asked again.

"I think they want to sell him as a slave. To some rich mortals. Or to a brothel."

"A brothel! Our prince!"

The soldier looked at his comrade, shocked. He could not imagine that the mortals would dare to turn a son of Odin into a prostitute. Those creatures were really disgusting.

"Oh, come on. Don't look so shocked. Mortals often use their prisoners as slaves. Or they sell them. And when the prisoners are pretty young men or women, they are sold as sex slaves. Therefore, as Prince Loki is _ar_…"

"Do not say it! If Prince Thor hears you…"

"Prince Thor is too busy tormenting this poor Siegfried." The guard shrugged. "Come on, don't take this outraged air with me. I saw you glancing at him when he was washing in the river" He smirked naughtily at his comrade, who looked down with shame. "Ah, don't worry. Seriously, if he was not his brother's brother, I would have shown him what a real man is." He said, obscenely grabbing his crotch.

The other soldier watched him, a look of utter disgust on his face. But he could not deny that the younger prince possessed a rare beauty. Yet Aesirs did not like ambiguity: men were supposed to look like men, to fight like men and they were not supposed to do what was women's prerogatives. Like magic. And it was common knowledge that Prince Loki spent a lot of his time learning the mastery of magic.

The problem was that the dark-haired prince was not in keeping with standards, especially compared with his brother. Indeed, Thor was tall, broad shouldered, very muscular, he had long blond hair, sky blue eyes and he held himself with confidence and pride. The perfect Aesir man. On the other hand, Loki's body was long and thin. He was almost as tall as his brother but nowhere near his build. Instead, he was slender and possessed delicate features. Besides, he was very pale, which added to his apparent fragility.

Of course, Loki was not a fragile being. He was strong, had stamina and could use his magic and his intelligence as a weapon. Yet, unfortunately for him, Aesirs only valued raw strength and, when he was younger, the prince had often been mocked because of his frail shape.

Then he had grown up and slowly gained this particular, feminine beauty. And people in Asgard started calling him _argr_, but not too loud, for they did not want it to reach the Allfather's ears. They started looking at him, but not too intensely, for they did not want it to be noticed by his brother. Paradoxically, they desired him and despised him at the same time.

If Thor knew what they were doing to his brother, in their mind, in their dreams, he would kill them at once. But fortunately for them, the thunderer could not read minds. Those indecent thoughts remained their secret fantasies.

So, yes, the soldier had the same fantasies and he often glanced at the dark-haired sorcerer with inappropriate thoughts coming to his mind. But contrary to his comrades, he had some remorse. Loki was his prince, son of king and brother of a future king, not some random boy. His royal status should command respect. Yet, if it was true for Thor, it was not that simple for his younger sibling.

The soldier's course of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by the captain exiting the prince's tent in a hurry.

"Well, apparently, he is still alive." The other guard whispered.

The captain stooped on his tracks and looked at the Aesir camp. Then he turned back and pointed at the guard who had just spoken.

"You."

The soldier tensed up. "Yes, Sir?"

"Gather everyone. Prince Thor wants to make a declaration." He ordered.

"Yes, Sir." The guard immediately ran towards the other soldiers.

The remaining guard watched the captain with curiosity. He seemed tired, exhausted even. He was looking in the distance, far beyond the little glade where they had settled.

"May their gods take pity on them. Because we won't."

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Obviously, kidnapping Loki was a very bad idea.

In the next chapter, we will learn Thor's plan and we will see what happen when Loki meets Svadi.

Do not hesitate to leave a comment, either positive or negative (as long as it is polite). In other words, review, please!


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